


All In A Touch

by Arterius_Rising



Series: Wings Universe [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Awkwardness, Interspecies Relationship(s), Misunderstandings, sensory, sexual spark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 22:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arterius_Rising/pseuds/Arterius_Rising
Summary: Sequel to Wings.During a mission on Zorya, Javik is forced to catch Shepard before she plummets to her death. Their exchange reveals her feeling through their sensory connection, but she senses nothing in the way of emotion from him in return. Disheartened, Shepard resigns herself to it all being a misunderstanding; brought about by their different cultures and fifty thousand year age gap.(Interspecies awkwardness continues)





	All In A Touch

**Author's Note:**

> (This is part of a series; Wings is first, and I highly recommend reading that to begin with!)
> 
> Being edited: because I’m an awful perfectionist.

 

Zorya was as wild and unpredictable as she last recalled it.

There were less Blue Suns hiding in the underbrush, though they had been replaced with an enemy Shepard considered exponentially worse; Reaper forces. Twisted beings, and a reminder of what would happen if they failed. Mercs seemed tame in comparison, namely because they did not have the capability to bring about the end of civilisation as they knew it. Not unless they had some hidden super weapon. In which case, Shepard would have liked to ‘borrow’ it.

Her quest with Zaeed during the suicide mission felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, they had all battled with the reality of not coming back, of it being one final trip. He’d wanted to tie up loose ends. The workers she’d gone against him to save had probably all perished. She grimaced at the bleak thought. 

Those were easier days.

Pollen filled her lungs as she trudged through jungle terrain, assault rifle held tight to her chest. Sun beams heated the back of her neck. Not for the first time since the incident in Javik’s quarters a few weeks past, her eyes drifted to him. It happened more often than not, whether they both be in the mess hall or out on the field.

She would find herself with a heatsink sized hole in her forehead if she continued.  


Not from Javik, no. He had made it clear he… wanted her attentions? Shepard wasn’t sure what word would be applicable. The problem was her inappropriately timed glances in battle, leaving her open to even a novice sniper. Hell, the amount of time her head foolishly strayed out of cover, even a child could steady the sight between her distracted eyes.

The only consolation?

It appeared Javik hadn’t noticed. More so, he may have been so accustomed to drawing stares, that he didn’t catch her eyes roam to him more than usual. _More_ than was proper for a commanding officer. As much as Shepard inwardly berated herself, she couldn’t seem to stop the urge to take him in; the sight of him. Turquoise complexion, russet crest and citrine eyes. His presence was captivating, if prickly and tense at times.

He was an inigma, and a mirror of show Shepard saw herself.

And when she indulged herself overlong, studying his alien form, her mind went to… surprising, yet not unwelcome places.

Javik sauntered a few metres ahead, towards their target destination. Reaper forces hold up in the ruins of the factory Zaeed had torched. Shepard resolutely avoided looking at his back, and thinking of those breath-taking wings, velvety to the touch. When Garrus came up behind her, knocking her shoulder with his, she grunted.

“I’ve thought of a new nickname for you,” he started. Her eyes flickered to him, and her expression said, _I already had one?_ Shepard knew he was out to tease. She could hear it in the purr of his voice, and the way his mandible twitched to one side. A signature Garrus smirk.

“Tell me at your own risk,” she groused, without heat. Shepard adored her best friend too much to be irritated by him, especially when he strived to keep her in lighter moods. To keep her from falling under the weight of not just her world; but many. There was no way he hadn’t detected her strange, subdued behaviour as she argued with her own head and wayward feelings.

He hummed, making out as if he truly considered her threat. In reality, he had already made the choice to taunt her into banter with him. Nothing short of an ambush would dissuade him. Though knowing her friend as she did, even a firefight wouldn’t stop him.

Their shared team comm sometimes came with an unfortunate side effect. Namely hearing Javik remark on the primitive combat forms of their enemies, along with Garrus leaving his music on the wrong channel.

Shepard was quite certain she could recite all the words in the turian national anthem. Remixed, of course.

“ _Carmine_.” He chuckled at his own humour. Had Shepard been anywhere else, she would have rolled her eyes and asked: Who laughs at their own jokes? Instead, she blinked at him. Had he really gone there? Yes, yes he had. She needed to stop teaching him human references.

“If I didn’t keep an eye on the horizon, I would be concerned about the target painted on your forehead.” When Shepard paused, mouth agape to defend herself, Garrus pressed a covered talon tip to said forehead. “Right,” he tapped. Once, twice. “Here.”

She couldn’t deny it. Sighing, Shepard began to move again when she noted Javik had gotten father away. He wouldn’t wait for them. A God send in battle he was, but their grumpy prothean still struggled with the concept of team-work outside of immediate life or death. Even then, he only grasped it loosely.

“Will you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?” Garrus’ voice grew serious, as he lowered his tone and slowed his wider gait to match with hers.

As these things went, there was an ambush in waiting.

Any further conversation they might have had was cut short, as they were forced to split up, using the trees for cover. Garrus and Javik focused their combined firepower towards the armed targets, while Shepard made sure the hordes of husks never made it an inch in her companion’s personal space. Shockwaves rippled along the muddied ground, followed by her powerful nova strikes. She was a spitfire of shimmering blue.

Nothing could halt her in her tracks, nothing but Javik’s grunt of discomfort to her side. Surroundings near forgotten, her head whipped in his direction. He had been tripped by a husk, devoid of its legs, who had crawled past her.

“Ja-” Another husk launched itself onto her back. Its skin was molten, searing into the white plates of her armour.

Shepard ripped the foreign body off of her, while it clawed for her exposed face. She broke its neck and threw the husk away before it could erupt, then lifted her gaze to find the other enemies dispatched. Javik dusted himself off. There had been minimal risk to him, and yet Shepard had reacted as if he’d been mortally wounded. She sucked in a breath when duel set of eyes focused on her; his expression partly disapproving, with something heated beneath.

Had she thought Javik hadn’t noticed her wondering eyes?

She had been wrong. Terribly, delightfully wrong. When he offered her a sly, sharp toothed smile, her stomach bottomed out. Making her feel as if she had been caught in the maw of a panther, as it hunted in the forestation around them. He walked away calmly, like he hadn’t just given her a pointedly promising look.

Shepard’s stare passed him, to the face of her best friend. From a bedroom look, to a knowing one. God damn it, Spirits help her.

Thankfully, Garrus had enough tact to keep his plated lips shut. Deep into Reaper territory, she did need her wits about her. As assembled as she could make them while her mind refused to co-operate.

Breaking the tree line, they came upon the bridge they had once crossed with Zaeed during his unfinished business, right before they took the jump through the Omega 4 relay. Only this time the bridge was in disrepair. Vines had begun to descend, to strangle the metal and the rusted mechanics meant a gap between one side and the other. Perhaps too large for them to leap across.

Garrus smacked the console with his fist, but it was dead. He had seriously picked up too many of her habits; bad ones at that. In the beginning, she taken him on her ground team for his decryption skills, as she had little to none.

“I’ll go first,” she told them. _If it meant she didn’t have to look either in the eye_ , was her unspoken reason.

“Shepard,” Garrus scolded, his sub-harmonics ringing with displeasure. “It looks about ready to fall. Rusted as it is.”

“It’s the only way we know into the facility.” Shepard pointed out, and kept walking, though she did go slower. Edging her way out, she was half way to the gap when the metal groaned loudly.

If it collapsed, Shepard could charge, but she would need to be quick. The easiest target to aim for would be one of the men in heavy armour at her back, as they also happened to stand on the largest place to land.

“Shepard, come back,” Garrus’ duel toned voice trilled.

She knew she was in trouble.

All it took was for her to shift her weight too much on one foot. The metal flooring slid, aimed down towards the cavernous drop below. Shepard managed to sprint up it, using the grip on her soles, and latch onto the part of the bridge which remained. Her fingers ached as she held on with one hand, swinging with the force of her jump.

Her armour and weapons weighed her down. She was going to fall.

A three fingered hand reached down, snatching onto her forearm. Looking up, she met the golden eyes of Javik. He bared his teeth, eyes a little too bright. The remnant of the bridge he was on stuttered, and she slipped in his grip. His hand gripped hers like a vice. Heart hammering, she felt a sensation similar to that of the beacon, and exactly like the first time she’d touched Javik.

It was almost as if they shared the same thoughts. A melding of minds, but through touch. His aggressive expression altered. Softening, if she could believe it. Shepard didn’t know why, but hanging solely from the strength in his arm, she allowed herself to think of all the hidden things she’d held within her thoughts when it came to him.

How the attraction she felt towards him terrified her, but also thrilled. How she had spent so long on the streets of Earth alone, fighting with her own anger, her own violent nature. That when she’d first laid eyes on him, she’d felt someone akin. Someone who might understand her.

Dishearteningly, she felt nothing in return. No emotions from him.

Garrus came to balance at Javik’s shoulder, where he reached down to secure his talons beneath her shoulder piece. With his and Javik’s combined strength, the two of them hauled her bodily up and onto safer ground. Feeling suddenly bereft, Shepard avoided looking at Javik, and caught Garrus’ mandible quiver. He wasn’t happy with her, and Shepard knew her fate was sealed when he crossed his arms over his chest.

It wasn’t the place to have an argument over it. “Thanks,” she breathed instead, checking her weapons were still attached. If her cheeks flamed, she blamed it on the near death experience; even though she faced those on an hourly basis.

“This isn’t the end of it,” Garrus warned. He walked past her, and Shepard lifted her head when he jabbed a talon at something. “There’s another way, up there.”

“How-”

“Visor,” he tapped it.

Garrus’ anger kept her distracted from dealing with her tumultuous feelings. She’d been so sure of Javik’s intentions. How had she misread them? She chalked it down to cultural differences, and a fifty thousand year age gap.

No reasoning helped the disappointment, however.

 

 

 

After a shower, Shepard patched up with medigel where the husk had gotten a few shallow swipes in. Then dropped onto her office chair, where she rubbed her palms over her eyes till they stung. Shepard needed to get her head on straight. 

Stretching over to her personal terminal, she sent Garrus a quick message. He still sulked over her stunt, and she didn’t blame him. Had he have done the same, Shepard would have roasted him.

_Don’t be mad, BG. I’ll even let you pick the movie next time if you forgive me._

No sooner had she clicked send, did her door light up and announce the presence of a guest. Shepard half anticipated it to be Garrus, having moved on from quieting simmering, to wanting to have a full blown argument over it. She had not expected to see Javik, and the sight of him startled her into a jolt.

Nothing went unseen by his keen eyes, and he couldn’t have missed her reaction.

“I sense fear in you.”

Just like him, he left her no time to sort her thoughts, or _breathe_ before he started with his intense questioning, his pinning stare.  

“Fear of us.”

“Wait,” she held up her hand. “You don’t need to do this, Javik-” His words registered. “What?”

He frowned. “Did I stutter? No, I did not.” He bared his teeth, and Shepard realised he might be as disappointed with her near plummet as Garrus was. She hadn’t thought he would be, but then she hadn’t looked at him since he’d pulled her over the ledge. A feat of its own, but her embarrassment had stayed her eyes.

“But wait, on the bridge… I sensed you felt nothing for me. You don’t need to keep up this charade, and I don’t know why you felt like you even needed to in the first place.” Anger bit into her voice, a defence mechanism. He had seen, no, _felt_ her thoughts on the matter. Had he come to gloat?

He chuckled, an unfamiliar sound rising from his chest, and her rage flared. She pointed a finger at his chest. “Do _not_ laugh at me.”

He snatched her hand. Quite easily he could have broken her wrist, but instead he held her hand along his. It was fully bare. His skin was warm, and had Shepard been imaginative, she might have thought it trembled under her palm.

“You are inexperienced with the bond through touch,” he told her. While his hand held hers, his eyes never left her face. “You freely gave your feelings over to me, your thoughts…I have more restraint,” at her face, he added. “More experience.”

Blood pounding in her ears, in the pulse point at her throat, Shepard eyed him. His expression was open, more so than she had ever seen him. She sensed he was telling the truth, though she felt nothing but the warmth of his hand and the unusual texture, still nothing of his feelings. When she tried to pull her hand away, he held fast.

“I would show you...” Had she been the dreaming sort, Shepard might have thought he held some trepidation in his voice, some emotion other than disdain for everything in the world he’d woken in.

She paused, and swallowed. “Will it hurt?”

“No.” Unbelievably, his voice deepened. A scrape of velvet along her skin. “The bond will be unlike anything you have known in your lifetime, it may…," he caught himself. "Prepare to experience it, rather than having it explained by inadequate words.”

Commander Shepard did not back down, nor had the woman behind the title ever backed down from him. She was exceptionally curious, and at the same time cautious; she had already thought she’d misjudged him. There was no telling what he might reveal through his bond. Their cultures were vastly different. She shouldn’t have been surprised if Prothean’s dealt with relationships, with attraction, in an unknown way.

Unable to trust her voice, Shepard nodded her acceptance.

There was no pain as there had been with the beacon, no scratching at her mind and no feeling of sinking into herself as there had been with Liara. One instant she was stood looking at him, the next she saw dancing colours behind her lids. She hadn’t even realised she’d closed her eyes, but then she _perceived_ emotions; thoughts that weren’t her own, and yet occupied the same space within her.

At first, it was as if she attempted to decipher braille, but soon Shepard was able to _read_ , to make sense of the sensations he was sharing with her. She felt an endless pit; of sadness, of unending anger, and staggering loneliness. A sense of hopelessness, and loss so strong it nearly floored her. But then there was a warmth, and it settled just beneath her chest bone. A tentative presence of lighter emotions. They were as hard to pinpoint as wisps, but she understood they were meant for her, _there_ because of her.

No sooner had his essence washed over her, did it recede. When Shepard was once more able to see through her eyes, she was lent back on her desk for support. One of his hands still held hers fully, while the other was clasped round her hip to steady her. His face was close to the crook of her neck, and he watched her with his citrine eyes. Stunned, she could not find the words, any words to break the atmosphere.

When words failed her, Shepard used action. She drew towards him and placed her lips to the sensitive skin below his jaw. He gnashed his teeth, close to her ear, but she did not have it in her to fear what he might do with them. She understood why they had valued their gift of touch as they had, because she had a recognition of him, and it left no room for falsehoods.

His long, three fingered hands tightened on her; to hold her away, or pull her closer she wasn’t sure he was certain. She had been in his position the last time they had been so close.

“All I have known is vengeance,” he admitted, his tone a deep growl.

Her eyelashes fluttered, as it was uncharted territory for her, but she met his gaze head on. “I have never known you to give into fear. From the first moment I met you in fact, I thought you were one of the bravest of us.”

He searched her eyes, grappling with himself, as she had. Releasing her hand slowly, he took a step into her frame and gripped her desk instead. Perhaps it was hard for him to think while touching her. The other still clutched her hip, over her top. He breathed heavily, and Shepard felt her pulse quicken, and she brought a hand up to grasp his back. She imagined his wings fluttered beneath his armour.  

“I will not ask you to be my mate,” his breath tickled her skin. “Not yet.” He was reluctant to fan the flame she had caused in him, she could understand the trepidation of anymore loss. Sometimes it was easier to harder yourself, and he had been content in his rage.

Her mind whirled at the prospect, but she found herself saying, “We could take it slow.” And meant it. Shepard could not say she would want to be his mate, to be tied down in such a way. Not when they faced the end, any day they could meet the bullet that would cut short their lives. Or worse, the Reapers could win.

She felt him relax, and after a heartbeat, he removed himself from her personal bubble. “That would be… acceptable.” His duel sets of eyes took her in, a long sweep from head to toe, and then he started for her door.

Shepard collected herself enough to call after him. “Javik.” Only, when he paused to hear her out, her words were caught in her throat. She had so many, and yet none were ready to be aired.

He offered her a sharp toothed smile, more aggressive than pleasant, but that was just who he was. “You will need practice with the touch, and I will teach you. For now, I must think.” And then he was gone, into the elevator which would take him to his deck, to his sensory waters.

Needless to say, Shepard took herself to her bed and sat down. Her palm looked no different, but he had made her senses come alive. When she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine all the colours he had showed her, and the thoughts which came with them. Touching a finger to the centre of her palm, she let out a shuddering breath, and laid down.

He had kindled something within her, two similar lights, burning in the darkness.

She only hoped they weren’t snuffed out.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for awhile, and finally have it up to scratch. Its difficult to write about the prothean's sensory gift, but exceptionally interesting at the same time. I also like the idea of Javik not knowing exactly how to deal with an attraction, as he says himself he was born into a time of war. I can't imagine he spent much time thinking of the future, and a significant other. They're both in uncharted waters.


End file.
